


Two Sides

by Thornapple



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Betrayal, Drinking, Emotional Baggage, F/M, Loki being half-manipulative half-genuine, Slight Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Loki (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 02:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12571828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thornapple/pseuds/Thornapple
Summary: “We’re not so different from each other, you know.” His gaze bores into hers, ruthless and direct and steady. “Betrayed by Odin, left to clean up his mess, left to perish alone. Both lying to everyone, including ourselves.”(Takes place after Scrapper 142/Valkyrie knocks Loki out and ties him up.)





	Two Sides

**Author's Note:**

> I literally saw Thor: Ragnarok a few hours ago, and couldn't get this out of my head after seeing the fight scene between Scrapper 142 and Loki. Apologies if there are any errors.

Her arm tingles at the place his hand had been – had _gripped_ , with a demanding urgency borne of fear, and, as she later learned, a half-drop of concern for his brother. It had been a gesture designed to intimidate, with a grip rather firmer than was necessary, but she hadn’t spent years in Sakaar for nothing. And the years before that – the events that necessitated this mental escape – so many dead…

(She isn’t quite as drunk or as absent from her surroundings to lack these vestiges of self-awareness; a spade is a spade, and she bloody well knows when she’s running away.)

And so she hits him rather harder than necessary when he dredges up those memories she’s tried so hard _, for so long_ , to shunt to a corner. Nothing serious, though - the aim was to knock him out, and she’ll be damned if she lets her emotions get in the way of this. Problem, rumination, solution implementation – simple enough, though she really dislikes thinking in such pompous language.

She won’t deny, however, that as she hears his head hit the floor with a sharp _crack_ , she hopes almost dispassionately that the bastard wakes up with a throbbing headache that’ll hurt like hell before he manages to heal it. Meddlesome fool. He deserves it.

* * *

His eyes flutter open just as she finishes tying him to the chair, and she thinks that she should’ve dealt him a sharper blow. They’re pretty eyes, she thinks detachedly, and they contribute to that air of polished falseness he holds about him like armour. She’s always disliked pretension in people (putting up with the Grandmaster is a regrettable necessity), and this man is no different.

Loki blinks a few times, his eyes taking a while to focus and process the unfamiliar surroundings. She makes his bonds extra tight, just in case.

It’s probably time to go look for Thor. But first, a drink.

As she makes her way to the counter, he – surprise, surprise – starts to speak.

“You must have felt utterly betrayed,” he says. His voice is deceptively light.

She ignores him superbly, uncorking a half-empty bottle and tossing its burning contents down her throat. There’s another small bottle that’s three-quarters full peeking out from behind a jar, and she stares at it for a moment, before shrugging and picking it up.

He doesn’t stop talking.

“I know what it’s like, clichéd as it might sound,” he says, almost contemplatively. “I once trusted my father, trusted that I was a valued part of the family and the court. But then everything turned out to be a huge, goddamned lie, and no matter how much I did, no matter _how much_ I tried to prove my worth to Odin and the throne, it was _never_ enough. So I decided to pile lie upon lie upon lie… in the end, if no one was going to look out for me, I was going to do it myself… I was going to construct my own escape.”

Her breathing becomes dangerously measured, though her face remains unreadable. She decides to throw her empty bottle at Loki’s head to shut him up, but as she whips around to do so, his next words make her flinch.

“We’re not so different from each other, you know.” His gaze bores into hers, ruthless and direct and steady. “Betrayed by Odin, left to clean up his mess, left to perish alone. Both lying to everyone, including ourselves.”

A pause, as she tries to contain a sudden surge of rage, when all she can see are those ruthless, pitying eyes. It’s testament to her years of experience when she manages to keep her voice fairly even as she forces out her reply.

“You need to up your game if you’re going for the goading approach,” she says derisively, before stalking up to him and bringing the bottle crashing into the side of his head. He jerks a bit before slumping into his chair, his reply fading into a soft exhale.

Liar. Trickster. Cheat.

She leaves the glass splinters as they are and gets herself ready to go find the other slightly less annoying brother, ignoring all the while the smooth, insidious words sliding across her mind. Refusing to admit that they wouldn’t have gotten under her skin quite as much if they had been layered with falsehood as she insisted to herself they were.

Her arm tingles where he’d touched her. She composes herself, holds her gaze steady, and sweeps out of the room, her decision made.

 

 


End file.
